I try not to write when I feel emotionally raw. I feel that I may run my mouth in a way that is worse than usual considering the format in which I am operating in currently, and so I’d rather not. I’m also not feeling too emotionally raw right now but still a bit more than I’d like, but I’m going to write regardless.

Sometimes it is better to choose one’s words carefully and I know that I’ve written stuff here that I find highly embarrassing at this point. I’m yet to work out as to what I will do with said stuff, but it exists and… yeah.

Sometimes it is better to think things through before one writes is what I’m trying to say, but my spelling out what I’m trying to say is pointless here. It does little other than waste time and so I don’t know why I did it, other than to waste time. I won’t admit that, however, but I digress.

I’m sitting here and I’m feeling raw and sad and all those kinds of things and it’s due to family. That’s basically the whole thing. I’ll get more into that later as I’ve still a fair bit of rambling to do and, to be honest, I don’t know if I want to try and stretch the topic out. I’d rather be concise this evening, even if it means that I write at a slower pace.

Sometimes writing is as strong as it is weak. Regardless, it is something that should often be handled responsibly. Not always, but often. It is something that many of us have at our disposal and we should make better use of it than we do, though maybe we make good enough use of it as it is and I don’t know any better, though that is the likely case. Doesn’t really matter.

Sometimes writing is best used as a way to vent and get things off our chests. Sometimes writing is a great tool to allow the expression of emotion. Sometimes it really allows us to get everything out and then we never need to think about it again. That said, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop thinking about what I’m thinking about for a while.

I’m doing my best to be delicate here whilst not going into details, so I apologise if my language is clunky:

A few months ago there was an event involving a family member of mine. Nothing bad happened (as far as I’m aware) and the event led to what I hope is an improvement in said member’s life. I’m happy for them as it makes me happy to know that someone in my life is either doing better, or has the opportunity to get into a better position.

After the event the family member stopped talking to me as much. Fine, they were busy. It happens. However, gradually they talk less and less and then cut me out of their lives and I don’t know why. I know they’re doing fine but I cannot reach them directly.

Now to clarify they appear to have cut quite a lot of people so I’m not the only person here, but it still hurts. We’ve had a strained relationship for a long time but it had been slowly improving. They’re a bit of a jerk and have done things that are shitty, but they’re still family. There’s not much of my family I talk to, and the distance between the family members that I talk to and I is quite great so I value what time I can spend with them. It’s hard and so when one of them just cuts me out, it hurts.

It also hurts that, when speaking to someone who they live with, asking to speak to them and their advising they can’t but they’ll talk in a bit, they don’t contact me. But I can’t do anything about that and so at the end of the day I’ve got to get on with my life.

But it sucks and it hurts. I don’t know if I have done anything and without the contact I can’t confirm. It hurts because it’s family, but it’s also not the first time I’ve had this happen.

Many years ago someone I knew asked me to do something and not tell anyone about it, and for many years I didn’t. Nothing illegal; there was concern expressed about someone’s behaviour and I was asked if I could provide a number in case an intervention was required, to which I did. It eventuated into nothing; I was advised that things seemed to level out and turn out okay. The person whose number I provided, I asked if they’d received any calls and provided a vague answer that didn’t provide any info as to why I was asking, but they hadn’t.

It got back to the person who asked me and I apologised. I think they think I revealed the whole thing but I didn’t. A bit after I was asked by the person if I would always be honest with them and I told them yes because I always would. They were a close friend and I valued their friendship. A few months after that they stopped talking to me. No explanation, nothing.

A bit later after that they followed me on Instagram for a while but I didn’t reach out. I also didn’t tell anyone about what I was asked about helping with for a really long time because I didn’t want to betray their trust. It wasn’t a good thing to do and it created a fair bit of pointless stress and worry in my life.

I can’t comment on why people do things. I can guess but I can’t be certain. The truth can hurt but I’d rather hear the truth than have silence. I’d rather that than be left with nothing as nothing hurts so much more, but sometimes that’s all you get.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 25:51:23

Fairly slow but also pretty coherent.
Not sure if worth publishing though.

Oh well.

Written at home.